pic credit: neurosciencenews.com I had trusted him. We dined together and I opened the doors of my home and heart to him. He was a brother I found in a distant land. I gave him the reigns of my business until the betrayal. How could Moh do this to me? Moh swindle me? Never! I tried to rationalize his motives. I fought the thought that he would intentionally steal from me but the evidence was in black and white. It had been going on for months and he was so good that it took a miracle for me to uncover the ploy. My heart shattered. The pain was unbearable and deep. I was about heading over to confront him openly when he walked in. His explanations did not add up. He had no excuse and the pain I felt was made worse when he apologized. It was the devil and he was sorry, were the words he uttered. Moh was guilty as charged. Friends

Click     here  to read the previous post If none of the previous steps worked for you, then one of the following options might do the trick. Keep reading... Read It – Never, ever underestimate the power of a good story. If you don’t have a new book close at hand, simply go online, read journals; religious books; comics, or subscribe/login to Nikkyivy's blog Read and enjoy the inspirational stories…YES! Get immersed in the narratives, take a deep breath and let all your worries go. Let's hope you won't want to be in the movies by the time you are done with the stories... Strip – Most times, we accept what people say about how we look. We fervently wish we could look like our favorite models and could fit into that lovely garb that is a size smaller. Accepting all that negativity will     lead to depression and living below your potentials.

If you haven’t already done so, this is one question you’re going to ask yourself at one point in time or the other. Chances, though, are that you have already asked yourself this question. And if you’re like most human beings, you probably hesitated to arrive at a clear cut answer, weighed a lot of circumstances, and decided you will answer the question some other time.

  Y ou must have read diverse opinions or heard of many ways to overcome that low mood or feeling of being fed up with life's challenges. I have read some and they all proffered similar solutions. I don't know about you, but none worked out for me. The truth is; nobody yearns for that low, I give up, I am frustrated mood which is usually triggered by stress. Nobody want to be there. However when it happens, try not to be astonished by the techniques and suggestions that would be proffered by your family and friends as most of them would offer solutions that could leave you dazed for months. Just the same way they rush to conclude that every ailment is malaria, having a low mood is a good reason for everyone to become a Medical personnel overnight. People would start throwing suggestions, commands and every crude solution at you. Some might suggest drinking Agboh (a local anti-malaria brew), going for deliverance or fasting and prayers because your village people migh

"What happened?" Was his sharp retort. I looked at his calm face and knew we would be safe. “I don’t know how it happened, I lost my grip this morning and since then it has been dead. It wasn't intentional and I am so worried.” amsterdamnews.com Truth be told, I was more than worried. I had cancelled all my plans and have been driving around the small town in search of an expert. I was new in town, confused as to the layout, anxious and tired.  He looked me straight in the face, extended a hand towards me and I gently handed everything over to him. His charcoal burnt face squeezed into a frown as he spread them out on his examination table and stared hard as if the answers lay within. I nearly yelled; "handle my baby with care!" As I gazed at him, my mind took a trip to the genesis of my problems; my quack tech mind had assumed that creating more space would solve the various problems my phone was having. So the grand plan was to buy

On the eve of October 1 1960, Nigerians were eager to usher in our Independence and take the mantle of leadership from our masters. The streets were alive with joy and hearts were filled with expectations. We had reasons to celebrate and the country was agog with the fanfare "Are you ready?" His voice drowned out the volume of the radio documentary. I turned to see my husband wrestling with the lid of a bloated traveling box.  I frowned down at him and the pile of neatly arranged luggages and used cartons filled with household equipments. We had packed all night. Almost everything we owned was tied up and placed next to our bedroom door. Well, everything but our son who was asleep in his room. "Honey, must we go?" My voice could not conceal my exhaustion. He paused, slowly  pulled away from the closed box,  stood up and turned towards me. His eyes mirrored his surprise and displeasure at my question;

Art Works for sale. Are you interested? Send an Email of your request to nikyjone@gmail.com Let's encourage a friend and fan...

I can still remember my first night at the NYSC Camp...hmm. I arrived late and like other late comers, I had to sleep outside without a mattress, on the chilly fine sand of Adamawa with my bag for a pillow. That night was a nightmare.  I was depressed, disillusioned, heartbroken, alone and lost. Even the glittering stars dancing in the night sky could not obliterate the discomfort I felt from the stones piercing my skin, the soundtrack of the mosquitoes and the cold that seeped into my bones all night. I don't even know how I managed to sleep. I just know that I woke up with sand in my mouth and hair. Those were the days. Anyway, this is not a story about my NYSC camp experience, so I will try not to derail again. After exiting camp and landing a POA (Place of Assignment), I met and bonded with youths from different parts of the country. I was more at home with some Muslim young men and women from the Northern part of our country.  Their optimism and gregarious nature endeared

Babbie pulled out the chair next to mine and sat down. I looked up from my book and noticed she was sulking. "What is it again?" "It's my mum. She threatened me again today. She gave me till the end of this month to find a husband. Nikky sometimes I wonder if she is my real mother. Anyway it Will end this year. You remember that Reverend I told you about? He said I will be married by December. I just can't wait..." I was getting ready for my Bar Finals and could not understand what my friend was going on about. Initially I had concluded that Babbie was just being dramatic and would laugh very hard at her stories and facial expression. But her battle with her biological mother turned out to be true. Her mother had abused, starved and locked her out of their home severally for refusing to get married. She had dragged her to several "men of God" for cleansing and deliverance. Babbie was in her early twenties, young, living in hell and hated

Pic credit: www.nybooks.com I heard that the war lasted two and a half years. I also heard that many souls were lost. To be specific, we had One Hundred Thousand military casualties and between Five Hundred Thousand and One million Biafran civilians died from starvation. Those are statistics I got from the net. I was not there at the time. The truth is; most of us chanting war songs and heating up the nation were not there during the civil war. Another truth is that most of us are so used to living the good life that it would be impossible for us to survive the throes of a civil war.

Okay, I think its time for me to talk about the popular death trap on our roads. Before I start, I must state categorically that I have nothing against anyone who owns, drives or boards a tricycle popularly referred to as Keke Napep. It is actually a great youth empowerment program, and should be applauded. However I have witnessed several road accidents and heard of numerous deaths occasioned by the reckless operators of the Keke. A friend got a broken hand and I just witnessed a lady being lifted from underneath a keke that rammed into a vehicle! What happened to the Law restricting Keke from plying major roads in the FCT? What happened to the mechanisms that were put in place to regulate Keke and Okada operations in the Territory? Is there no age limit to driving a keke that any kid can now wake up and jump into the road with one? They are worse than Okada riders! They lack the basic training needed for maneuvering or driving a vehicle on the road. Most of them drink concoc

This story by an NIB fan made my day. Please read on I could not wait, to get home and out of the shower. It had been a long day but still incomplete without the vibrations from the other end of the phone. My lover; I could not wait to join her. ​ Fast forward, 2 years later; after the marriage; vows had been exchanged and babies were made; two cute angels in rapid succession; a boy that looked just like me and a girl, just like her. ​Beautiful beings. There would be nothing, absolutely nothing, to compare with this love. Something set in, was it the revelation and the understanding of not being able to love again? Something inexplicable. But you know what? It is a sacrifice, never to say an abusive word to her; never to lift a finger at her. Just like a great teacher taught me, she is an incubator; whatever you give her, she multiplies and gives them back to you. ​ ​